


A package from Double Trouble

by Bagge



Series: Fun & Flirting with Glimmer and Double Trouble [3]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Family, Gen, Light Angst, parental angst, somber
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:09:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29192058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bagge/pseuds/Bagge
Summary: Double Trouble visits their parent. They do not have the best relationship.
Series: Fun & Flirting with Glimmer and Double Trouble [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101665
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	A package from Double Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place in the same continuum as "Double Trouble in Trouble," which centers around the relationship between Double Trouble and Glimmer. You do not have to read that fic to follow the events here, but it might be helpful to know that the two of them are dating. It also expands a bit on this version of Double Trouble's personal philosophy, which might give some insight into their relationship to their parent. This story takes place not so long after that fic ended.

"Package for you, my good person!"

The elderly lizard person looked up from their flowerbed and wiped their hands on an already severely soil-stained pair of overalls. They gave the stranger a reserved look, nictating membranes closing twice over their eyes.

"I did not expect a package."

"And yet you received one," the stranger said in jovial tone, "demonstrating the unpredictable nature of the jolly old world we inhabit. Now what you _do_ with the package is naturally entirely up to you."

The lizard-person gave them a scrutinizing look. They were in their twenties or thirties, skin brown from birth and a life lived outdoors. Scars and subtler signs told about hardship and danger. Their eyes sparkled, telling stories about adventure of the kind that stoked the fire within rather than causing it to burn out.

"You hardly look like the common folks around here." The stranger shrugged.

"The power of observation serves you well, my good gardener. My place of birth and the fate that caused me to leave it is a tale and a half, which I - opportunity given - would be delighted to tell over a bowl of stew and a pint of nectar. Most recently, however, my journey has brought me to the Whispering Woods from the Crimson Waste, a haven for those looking to evade their past or to forge themselves a new future."

"So, which one of those are you trying to do?" The stranger grinned.

"Me? I prefer to live in the moment, wherever it takes me."

"And now it brought you here, delivering packages to those trying to get some well earned peace and quiet?"

"Such is the paths of fate. Do you wish to relieve me of the package, or am I to be left with the cumbersome burden of dangling in uncertainty between sender and recipient?" The lizard-person harrumphed.

"I have no obligation to you, nor the sender. If I were to deny you closure on this issue it would be up to you deal with it. My hands would be clean."

The stranger made a small, acquiescing gesture but said nothing. The gardener kept on gardening. The stranger slipped out of their backpack and busied themselves with their gear. The two of them kept sneaking glances at each other.

"How is life in these parts, then?" the stranger asked. The gardener collected their thoughts a few moments before answering.

"Less eventful than during the end of the war, but more than during the first princess alliance. Back then one could be left in peace. Now it's all roads and maps and community spirit."

"One could say those are good things," the stranger blightly noted.

"One could say such things are better suited for the young and about than the elderly and set in their ways." The stranger grinned at them.

"Then what would the elderly and set in their ways wish for in this new era of peace?"

"Why would we wish for anything except what we already have? A place to call our own, a garden for food and for fun, company of our choosing when we so wish."

The stranger glanced at the windows of the small cottage.

"One might wish for cloth in vibrant colors from far-away countries for new curtains? Or spices, such as not are grown or sold in these parts to liven up the stews and pies?"

The lizard-person gave them a long look.

"Who was the package from?"

"I caught neither name, nor face. My instructions were simply to deliver the package here - for which I was handsomely rewarded, I might add. Your choice to receive the package, or not, will not reflect either way on my fulfillment of my promise, nor the payment I have received."

They produced a well-wrapped package from their backpack. The lizard-person made no sign of taking it, so after a moment the stranger placed it on a fence post. The lizard person walked up to it and looked at it carefully.

"This does not seem to have been tampered with, despite showing signs of long and cumbersome transport," they said.

"I can grantee that it has not been opened in my care, even if you only have the word of a stranger to that effect. As for the hardship of the journey I will let the state of the package tell its own story, and sincerely hope that it has done nothing to spoil the content of the package."

"No way of knowing that without opening it."

"Which you can do, or not, as you chose."

They shared a rather determined silence. Eventually the lizard-person seemed to make up their mind about something and looked the stranger in the eyes.

"You were prepared to sell your life's story for a bowl of stew."

"And a pint of the kind of drink you only get here in the Whispering Woods, least that is forgotten." The lizard-person did a dismissive gesture.

"I have no such fancy claims to make. However, I do wonder what kind of story you would be willing to tell for a place in the shade, water from the pump and a plate of yesterday's leftovers."

The stranger bowed.

"For such a price I would be happy to tell news from near and far, if you so wish, or tell you of they joys and hardship of the poor and downtrodden, or gossip from the courts of the high and mighty." The lizard-person nodded and opened the gate.

"That seems like a fair price indeed. I trust you will find your own way to the pump to get yourself cleaned up and watered."

"I believe that task to be within my capabilities."

"Then don't dawdle but get going. I will bring you food enough for whatever news and gossip you might bring."

And with that, leaving the package on the post, the lizard-person retreated to the house and the stranger to the pump on the other side of the house. They each expedited their errands, and soon the sat on opposite sides of a rickety old table eating from a plate each.

If what was laid on the table were yesterday's leftovers, yesterday must have been a feast of renown, such was the opulence of pots and jars and plates full of food and treats from all over the Whispering Woods. The stranger ate with the appetite of those who truly live in the moment, and therefor never know where the next meal is coming from. The lizard-person regarded them with the content look of a chef being appreciated to the full credit of their effort.

"Your travels have treated you well, then?" The lizard person said with low voice.

"One mustn't complain," the stranger answered. They looked at their host.

"You have your health?"

"One mustn't complain," the old lizard-person bounced back. They met each other's gaze.

For just a moment, the strangers eyes changed. Nictating membranes flickered twice, in response to a similar, horizontal blink from their host.

The stranger looked away and their eyes returned to their usual state.

"Now," they said in business-like tone. "What news might I treat you with as payment for this princessely meal?"

"Gossip," the old lizard-person said promptly. "Of the high and mighty."

"Oh! Of course. My tales might take you to magical Mystacor, to the newly reclaimed court of queen Scorpia of the Fright Zone. To the rebuilt Salineas in all its splendor, or perhaps..."

"Brightmoon," the old person interrupted. "Tell me of the rumors of the dalliance between High Queen Glimmer and a scoundrel of a spy of no name or fame."

They exchanged a silent look.

"Neither of those things pass scrutiny," the stranger said dismissively. "The name of the escort of the queen is well known, to you and to everyone else who might chose to listen to such rumors. And as for fame, you can hardly dismiss their role of a lifetime, playing for both the Horde and the Princess alliance and ultimately standing as the sole confidant of Queen Glimmer herself in bringing the Horde to its knee."

"And tell me, then," the old person shot back, "how does said spy cultivate their fame. Are they playing for the courts? Are they wrangling fortune into coin? Are they teaching their craft to the young and aspiring?"

"They live their life every day and every hour in the manner of their own choosing," the traveler said coldly. "If there is a higher measure of success in this life, I'll still have to learn about it."

Silence.

"And the Queen?"

"I trust the Queen to be fully capable of making her own choices."

"Well, _I_ trust this escort of hers brings her no disrespect, nor any ill treatment."

"I trust the escort to be knowledgeable enough in the ways of the world not to need any lecture in such matters."

The old lizard-person sighed.

"Perhaps. But in my experience, if anyone present would care about such things, it's far easier to grow stagnant with your flaws than work to overcome them, whatever age you might find yourself."

They looked at each other again.

"The Queen and her escort are getting along just fine, or so rumors would have it," the stranger said with subdued voice. "They are as happy as can be, within the confines of their relationship as it is."

"Do they love her," the lizard-person asked with low voice, not looking directly at the person on the other side of the table. They nodded.

"In their own way... yes."

"Then I sincerely wish them all the best, and that they find whatever happiness their situation permit."

The stranger sat motionless for a few moments, then they sighed.

"Thanks," they whispered.

The old lizard-person didn't answer, but they blinked away a tear.

They ate in silence for a while, both of them having plenty of thoughts to process.

"Do you consider that little tidbit of royal gossip enough payment for the hospitality you have shown, or are there unfinished business between us?" the stranger said eventually. The lizard-person sighed.

"You owe me nothing, if that's what you are asking. I would ask you for a favor, though."

"And what favor might that be?"

"Stay with me for a few minutes more. I have a package to open and could do with some company." The stranger nodded.

"I am in no particular rush."

The lizard-person stood up and walked into the house again. Eventually they came out, collected the package and placed a pint of a clear liquid in front of the stranger. They raised an eyebrow.

"What is this, then?"

"Cider, made in the Whispering Woods from the fruits that grow here. A relative of mine who travels wide and far says there is nothing like it anywhere else in the world."

"And what dept will I incur from accepting this gift?"

"Nothing. You granted me a favor, remember. This is how I repay you."

"Hardly an equal exchange."

The old person looked at the stranger for a few moments, then said with tired voice:

"Please?"

The stranger lowered their gaze and accepted the pint.

It tasted ever bit as good as they remembered.

"Now let's see what we have here..." the lizard-person carefully opened the package.

It contained... lots of tings. Small packages of spice. Tea. Coffee. Coins from faraway countries. Tiny trinkets of art, some of them quite valuable, by the look of it. A large piece of cloth in - yes - vibrant colors. All carefully wrapped in individual containers. The lizard-person looked at it and sighed.

"Something of value?" the stranger asked with not quite-as-flippant voice as was clearly intended.

"Immensely so," the old person said. They lifted up the cloth and looked at it. "This will be perfect for curtains, as the person who picked it up well knows."

"Does that mean you will accept the package?"

"Yes. Yes it does."

The stranger relaxed, seemingly not aware that they had tensed.

"Then, obligations fulfilled, I think it's time for me to bid adieu. Until next time..."

They put the empty pint down, rose and started walking towards the gate. The old lizard-person stood up and turned to them.

"Double Trouble... before you go, can I see your face?"

The stranger froze in mid-step. They slowly turned around and looked directly at their host.

"You have never called me by that name before," they whispered. The old lizard-person bent their head.

"Then, perhaps it is high time I did, my child."

A ripple went over the strangers features, and they morphed into the green-skinned, fair-haired master spy known as Double Trouble. They looked at their parent in silence, both of them blinking their nictating membranes several times, processing complex emotions.

"I'm glad to see you again, and I'm glad you came visiting me, Double Trouble," the old lizard-person said in low voice, putting emphasis on the name. 

"I'm glad to be here," Double Trouble whispered. "It won't be long until next time."

"I look forward to it," the parent said, and they hugged - a clumsy, stiff and brief affair, but all the more noteworthy for its rarity.

Double Trouble walked down the road, in their own guise this time. The old lizard-person picked up the cloth and held it to their chest.


End file.
